


The Key

by The_White_Rabbit42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Implied Torture, Imprisonment, realized feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 00:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19073914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Rabbit42/pseuds/The_White_Rabbit42
Summary: When you and Gabriel are taken prisoner, you find that sometimes it takes more than weapons and magic to survive a hunt when things go sideways.





	The Key

“Gabe?”  It’s not the volume of your words that cuts through the quiet so much as your uncertainty.

 

He doesn’t hesitate in responding, the timbre of his voice as strong and steady as if you were both back at the bunker.  “Yeah?”

 

You swallow, and for a moment you almost back down from your confession.  “I’m scared.” 

 

His presence immediately stretches across the small dungeon your in, flooding it from wall to wall until there’s nothing but him surrounding you.  “It’s going to be ok, sweetheart. I promise.”

 

Only he  _ can’t  _ promise these things, not now that he’s so powered down he’s practically human.  

 

“C’mere.”  He motions you over with his free hand as the other hangs level with his head, secured to the wall in enochian engraved cuffs.  

 

You look at him a moment.  “I can’t.” 

 

The rope around your wrists pulls tight as you raise them, reminding him that you, too, are a bit tied up at the moment.

 

He simply arches a brow.  “Since when has a little rope and metal ever stopped you?”

 

Any other time you would have responded with  _ touche  _ or an equally smartass remark, but the screams down the hall distract you, sending your heart rate into the stratosphere as another round of adrenaline courses through your veins.  

 

You’re going to die here.  It’s all you can think about.  Sam and Dean don’t have a clue where you are, neither you nor Gabriel know enough about your location to send any hints to Cas, and the agonizing shrieks that echo through the underground chambers  _ never stop.   _

 

It’s only a matter of time before your captors come for you.   

 

“Don’t give up on me yet.”  The command drags you back from the depths of your mind, and when his face comes back into focus he’s more serious than you’ve ever seen him.  “You’re one of the smartest people I know, and with these in play.” Metal rattles against stone as he shakes his bound hand at you. “We need all the brain power we can get.”  

 

He needs you.   _ You _ .  And the revelation is enough to shake you free from your fear, if only temporarily.  

 

You glance up at your bindings.  The material itself seems pretty sound.  The fibers are smooth, wound tight without signs it’s beginning to dry out or fray.  

 

Next, you inspect the steel eyelet that’s keeping you tethered to the wall.  It’s relatively new, hardy, without any chips or rust. The stone it’s embedded in, however, is another story.  

 

There are cracks where the metal’s been hammered in, and when you run your fingers around the edges a few pieces break away and fall to the floor.  

 

_ Bingo _ .  

 

You set to work, jamming the meat of your palms against the hook.  It hurts like hell, though eventually that part of your hand begins to numb beneath the constant onslaught.  Your efforts pay off, as slowly the area continues to crumble into dust and small pebbles that faintly clatter to the floor.  

 

“You got this, sweetheart,” Gabriel tells you, continuing to throw encouragement your way in what you suspect is an attempt to drown out the ongoing misery in the background.  

 

Eventually, you stand, hoping you’ve made enough headway to just pull the damn thing out.  You raise your leg, planting your foot against the wall as you brace with the other. You steady yourself, taking a deep breath before you use every ounce of strength you have to try and pull yourself free.  

 

Within thirty seconds your sent tumbling to the ground, landing with a grunt as you manage to twist yourself onto your side so your arm and shoulder absorb the brunt of your impact.  

 

“Atta girl!”  He cheers as you push yourself up.  “Now get over here.” 

 

He’s close enough so you don’t bother trying to walk, awkwardly shuffling the few feet on your knees before dropping down into his outstretched arm.  

 

You don’t know the Gabriel from before; the trickster.  You don’t know the one who only plays games and makes snarky remarks.  There’s an echo of the archangel you’ve heard tales about, but the one you’ve met, the one who tucks your head beneath his chin and embraces you tightly is genuine in ways you’ve never expected.  

 

“It’s going to be ok,” he repeats, his voice a low rumble in the ear pressed against his chest.  

 

You smile, the gesture only partially forced.  “When you say it like, I almost believe you.” 

 

You allow your senses to be flooded with him, his scent filling your lungs as the heat of his body helps chase away the dampness that’s seeped beneath your skin.    

 

“You’re freezing,” he realizes, his hand trying to rub away the goosebumps on the bare skin of your arm.  

 

“Well, it’s pretty fucking cold,” you deadpan.  “And I am human.” 

 

It adds to your discomfort, sure, but in a way it’s not so bad.  It’s a reminder that you’re alive, and you’re happy to take as many of those as you can get.  

 

“I promise you, I’m going to get you out of here.”  

 

You can tell he wants so badly for that to be true, and that fact he’s so desperate for you to believe it makes you wonder who he’s trying to convince more.  

 

“Stop, Gabe.”  You swallow back on the dread forcing its way up through your chest as an eerie silence falls across the dungeon before footsteps begin to move toward your cell.  “Whatever’s gonna happen is gonna happen. I just…” 

 

You can’t say the rest.  It’s a card too close to your chest to play, even now.  

 

By the way he deflates, all breath leaving his body, he not only knows, but feels it too.  

 

It shouldn’t surprise you.  Nobody  _ wants  _ to die alone, but the thought of someone like him being just as vulnerable as you are is as sobering as your own mortality.  

 

“You’re going to be ok.”  He places all the emphasis on  _ you’re _ , and it takes you a few seconds to read between the lines.  

 

Your head pops up, pinning him beneath your stare.  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Sweetheart, for someone so smart, you really can be daft sometimes.”  The smile he gives you is soft and sad as he brushes the hair away from your face, his fingers lingering longer than necessary along your cheek.  

 

Your eyes widen.  “Gabriel --”

 

“You don’t need to say anything,” he cuts you off.  “It doesn’t change a thing.” 

 

Only it  _ does.   _ It changes everything, no matter what the outcome might be.  

 

You sit up, pulling away from him just enough for his brows to pull together in concern.  

 

“You listen to me, feathers,” you begin, an urgent undercurrent running beneath your tone.  “Whatever you have planned right now, forget it _. _ ”  You try to pack as much into your stare as possible, willing him to grasp what it is you’re saying.  “The only way out of here is _ together _ .”

 

Everything gives way to a heavy sadness, as if he just can’t believe what you’re saying is possible, and you realize he  _ doesn’t _ .  

 

Regardless of why, it breaks your heart.

 

“Do you understand?”  You ask, grasping his hand between yours before pressing it against your face, desperate for him to really hear what is you’re saying.  “The only way _I_ make it out of here is with you.”  

 

A second passes, then another, and as the silence stretches on you start to think that  _ he’s  _ the daft one of this duo.  Until his features finally fall, and his brows shoot straight to his hairline.  

 

When he speaks, he’s so quiet you almost don’t hear him.  “Do you really mean that?”

 

There’s nothing you could say that would convince him.  So you don’t, at least not with your words. Instead, you decide to put your mouth to better use.  

 

He’s been waiting for this moment, lips moving forward, more eager than anything to finally join yours.  The kiss is more intense than any you’ve had before, the threat of death still hanging imminently over your head, but there’s a tenderness that cuts through it all, tempering desire into something much more sweet.  

 

By the time you pull away, you’re out of breath, chests moving in equally erratic rhythms as you lay your forehead against his. 

 

You never could have known it, but you had just handed him the key to your survival, one you’d had with you the entire time: a reason to live.  

 

“Together,” he promises, his energy spiraling outward, creating the first light you’d seen in days as the warding on his cuffs began to glow.  

  
  



End file.
